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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762350">honey, there is no right way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/philthestone/pseuds/philthestone'>philthestone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>from eden [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Outlander (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, canon timeline would be approx. 1x12 equivalent, continuation of the brooklyn nine nine au, i should probably make this a series maybe, this is the stupidest thing ive written. also my favorite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:42:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/philthestone/pseuds/philthestone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire’s phone dings in the middle of a tiresome slough through the World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case.</p><p>
  <i>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: considering swapping lives w one of jen and ians sheep</i>
</p><p>It's enough to make her think that she probably loves him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>from eden [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>honey, there is no right way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is so stupid but i couldnt abide it sitting unseen by the world in the dark depths of google docs. thanks for being here today, title is from hozier (yes i KNOW) and reviews make my heart glow</p><p>canon timeline is probably like. 1x12 ish or whatever except not because this au throws twelve canon storylines into 1 timeline and rejects all sadness. im living my best life</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Claire’s phone </span>
  <em>
    <span>dings</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the middle of a tiresome slough through the World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: considering swapping lives w one of jen and ians sheep</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s about ten in the morning, so this makes Claire snort more loudly than strictly necessary. Murtagh immediately catches her at it, which is very annoying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s got </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> smilin’ like a wee fool over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire shoves her phone into the space between her thighs and tries hastily to school her expression into something less embarrassing. “Nothing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This, obviously, does nothing to convince Murtagh. He’s Claire’s most stalwart supporter in The World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case, which Claire knows, so he’s started taking liberties with how often he can give her Significant Looks about his godson. Claire mostly doesn’t hate it, firstly because Murtagh is the best person on planet earth and secondly because she is inching towards the acknowledgement that she is, perhaps, generally smitten with said godson.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be deeply inconvenient if she wasn’t married to him. She watches Murtagh’s most caterpillar-like eyebrow twitch at her incredulously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oooh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she says, very eloquently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dinnae be disrespectful now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire makes an irritated noise that goes something along the lines of “</span>
  <em>
    <span>argh</span>
  </em>
  <span>” and then attempts her best impression of a chilled cucumber, over the mountain of evidence that makes up their personal hell and also The World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is saved from having to come up with some witty rejoinder -- or, heaven forbid, suggest they focus more on The World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case -- by Geillis, who sweeps breezily into the breakroom as she always does: fae-like, swaying a bit as though to an invisible tune. Claire thinks it might be Toxic by Britney Spears, just from the tapping of her foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly ‘tis </span>
  <em>
    <span>Circus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and no’ Toxic,” says Murtagh, when Claire brings this up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget that,” says Geillis. “Ye were </span>
  <em>
    <span>argh</span>
  </em>
  <span>’in’ about somethin’. Trouble in paradise, hen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toxic is the superior song,” Claire says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s right,” says Murtagh -- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And paradise as a euphemism for married life is a foolish notion that disregards the hard work required to maintain a healthy and equal partnership --”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Och, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Claire</span>
  </em>
  <span> --”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfectly</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy, thank you, only The World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case is driving me up the bloody wall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh says, “She was textin’ Jamie under the table and I found her out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Traitor,” mutters Claire. Murtagh’s moustache twitches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Traitorously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toxic is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the superior song,” says Geillis, ignoring any preformative irritability in Claire’s tone and tapping at something on her phone. “An’ anyhow, the fact that yer smitten wi’ her bonny husband is no’ news t’anyone as ye might think. Murtagh had money on ye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>’!” It’s a very vehement protest. “Twas Rupert an’ Angus!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rupert, who has been sitting quite silently in the back corner of the breakroom watching knitting videos on YouTube during his does not look up but says, “Aye, since October.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> won the pot, naturally,” says Geillis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you all,” says Claire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her phone dings.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: sheep wouldnt have to wait in lines for admin signatures on pain of their captains sacking them</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Och, willya look at that,” Geillis says, “Prince Harry retweeted me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>English </span>
  </em>
  <span>one?” asks Murtagh, looking -- appropriately, Claire is sure he feels -- like someone’s grandmother has lifted her skirts in front of a small child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye. Only, ‘twas a tweet laden with a curse.” Serene, that way Geillis has where Claire can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “Is there anythin’ decent in the icebox? I’m half starved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: wait. u would have to become a sheep w me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire looks up in time to hear her name being called again. It’s sing-song this time, which does not bode well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she says, very innocently. Cucumbers are her friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did ye hear me, Claire?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire tires very hard to suck her cheeks in against the ridiculous grin blossoming across her face once more. “Yes,” she lies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh looks even more profoundly unimpressed than before; Claire ignores this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She didnae hear ye,” says Rupert from his corner; another betrayal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was contemplating the humour in The World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case,” Claire says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a terrible lie,” says Murtagh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s funny that it is making me want to stick my head in an oven,” Claire clarifies. They don’t have any ovens in the precinct, so this is a safe thing to say. Geillis says,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Text him back, fer Christ’s sake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ding.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: couldnt live my sheep life w out u claire</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Geillis is saying,</span>
  <em>
    <span> “</span>
  </em>
  <span>if this fridge of ours has anythin’ decent t’eat in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh -- you can have my yoghurt cup,” says Claire. A plastic baggie containing neatly folded napkins from the World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case mocks her from its spot on the table. She decides to open her messages to spite the baggie, which proves to be a fatal mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye ken ye might jest go into th’hallway an’ make yer wee electronic eyes at him in peace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> making </span>
  <em>
    <span>electronic eyes</span>
  </em>
  <span> --”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow Geillis manages to mimic Claire’s protest perfectly with a yoghurt spoon half stuck in her mouth. Claire, whose cheeks are glowing for reasons entirely unrelated to any electronic communications heretofore, clears her throat loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh has started to hum the first few notes of Toxic. Geillis waggles her eyebrows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you both,” Claire says, again. Rupert makes an offended noise. “Sorry,” says Claire. “All three of you I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Claire’s laddie bringin’ anythin’ decent for lunch?” wonders Geillis, around the yoghurt spoon. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: admin line is killing me forgot what i had to pick up for lunch. wrap special or the salad thing?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire falters, then caves. Logistical necessity, she tells herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Jamie 🐵 🐵: Salad thing, obviously</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: queen of health strikes again</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>xx</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Jamie 🐵 🐵: Shut uppppp</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Its the medical professional in me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: claire, admit u just really like greens</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Jamie 🐵 🐵: I refuse to get scurvy in this day of our Lord 2018.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: no one in this house is getting scurvy w u around</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>sheep dont live in houses</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>b there in five, DONT solve the case without me!!! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“In th'name of the Threefold God, woman,” Murtagh is saying, “can ye no’ eat an’ speak at separate moments?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I multitask,” says Geillis. “It’s how I deal wi’ our darling Captain MacKenzie. Ye must lighten up, Sarge, lest yer face be permanently stuck like so. Anyway, Claire --” Claire very much does not look like she has been caught participating in something she was vehemently denying moments ago; Murtagh makes a faint groaning noise and turns back to the mountain of evidence set up on the table in front of them, “Ye’ll have this case in the bag, hen. I ken it. Ye always get more done when yer in a good mood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire opens her mouth to protest and then closes it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a good mood. Her cheeks are pink, but it’s a pleasant feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I --” She smiles, and holds the phone closer to herself. “Thanks, Geillis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geillis only offers her a conspiratorial wink as she sweeps out, leaving the lingering scent of expensive perfume and peach yoghurt cup behind her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire says,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell Dougal the World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case killed me if he asks,” and takes her phone with her out into the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Jamie 🐵 🐵: Obviously, using my new sheep intellect, I will have a major breakthrough very soon</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: u went out into the hallway!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>does this mean i can misbehave</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Jamie 🐵 🐵: No</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe. If you get here with the salad in ten minutes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: 3 minutes &amp; u owe me all ur cherry tomatoes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Jamie 🐵 🐵: You say that like you’re not losing your mind right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: the ADMIN LINE, claire!!!!!!!!!!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>shite.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>will dougal kill me if i skive work</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Jamie 🐵 🐵: One hundred percent yes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From Jamie 🐵 🐵: worth it</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>b there in THREE</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>From inside the breakroom, Rupert laughs at something probably stupid. There are </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span> around, like, everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her finger is already swiping over the call button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sassenach --” Laughter in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I --” she says. A pause, quivering. She should do this at home, probably, if it’s to be the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love ye too, Claire,” he says, easier than she’d thought it would be. The sincerity crackles over the poor phone line and for reasons unbeknownst to Claire her throat tightens. Perhaps it’s the lingering trauma of the evidence mountain of doom. “But ye knew that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did. She’ll go work on the World’s Most Tedious B&amp;E Case for exactly three more minutes, she decides, and then they can skive work together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murtagh will be insufferable, but Claire finds she really, really doesn’t mind much.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry abt all the monkey emojis its sam heughans fault. his iconic modern au opinions have to be publicly recognized</p></blockquote></div></div>
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